Hamilton One-Shots
by Alien-Thing
Summary: A story filled with one-shots based off of the Hamilton fandom. Will definitely have the following ships: Lams, Jeffmads, Mullette, Marliza, and Burrdosia. Other ships are allowed, as long as you comment what ships you want. AUs are also allowed, as long as you can give me a detailed description of the AU.
1. Jeffmads: The Confession

**Ship** : Jeffmads

James swung his short legs back and forth on the bed, smiling ear to ear. After what seemed to be forever, he was going to be able to see the Thomas Jefferson after a long trip to France. Sure, he was an arrogant, forward Francophile, but James knew there was a soft side to his friend. That's what he loved about the tall, handsome, flirty man.

The only problem is, Thomas is James's _friend_. A word that James wanted to change just by adding three letters. It hurts to see that Thomas doesn't love him in _that_ way. Those three letters make a _huge_ impact on their relationship, and James really wanted to add those three letters.

 _Any hour and Thomas would be calling me_ , James thought, smiling like a dork, _I can't believe he's coming home! But why? He told me that he hated his life back at home. That he wanted to be somewhere else. That he wanted to live in Paris, the romantic city. The city where you could find love._

James's head was filled with thoughts and questions, each making his headache worst, but he couldn't help it. These thoughts came from the man that made him helpless.

 _Damn it, Thomas_ , James thought, _I can't even think straight. Not that I mind._

The lovestruck man fell backward, his back landing on the soft mattress of his bed. He groaned at his throbbing head, really wanting the pain to stop.

His phone suddenly began to ring, which made him jump from the sudden call. Must be Thomas.

"Hello?" James asked, already picking up the phone without checking the contact.

"Jemmy, what's up?" an unfamiliar voice asked. James began to panic. Conversing with strangers was _never_ his forte.

"U-um, w-who's this?" the frightened man asked, stuttering.

He heard a chuckle from the other side of the call, which made him more nervous.

"Jemmy, you don't remember me?" the voice asked, a bit of disappointment in his tone, "Thomas Jefferson? Your childhood friend? Did you already forgot about me?"

James sighed, which made Thomas laugh his beautiful laugh that James loved to hear. "Y-yeah, sorry about that," the stuttering man replied, "I just- you sound very different from the last time I heard from you. I guess people do change?"

"Yeah, it's been like five or six years of living in Paris, so of course, I was gonna change and stuff." James heard silence from the other side, which was completely awkward for him. He coughed in his elbow, trying to see if the other man would react at all. He was right.

"Jemmy, are you sick?" Thomas asked, and James could already imagine his face twisted into a concerned one.

"I'm fine-" James replied before letting out a coughing fit into his elbow, "I'm _really_ fine."

" _Jemmy_ , you know _you're_ supposed to be picking me up today," Thomas said, "But you don't have to! I'll get a taxi and-"

"N-no, I'll pick you up!" the sick man stuttered, "Where are you?"

"Um, the airport?"

James stood up from his bed and began grabbing casual clothes for the outside. He decided on a pale, yellow scarf, a light-blue button-up shirt, and some black jeans. "I'll be there soon," he said, a bit hurriedly.

"James, you okay?" Thomas asked, concerned.

"N-no, I'm fine!" James replied, slipping on his black combat boots, "I'll be there in a few minutes!"

And with that, James hung up, cursing to himself about not even saying one good-bye. He ran out of his apartment and towards his car, starting the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.

 _What should I even say?_ James thought to himself, _Hey, Thomas! Glad that you're back! No, a bit too energetic? Thomas, where have you been? No, you already know where he's been. Just say hi and say that you've missed him. Wait, he called you Jemmy. But he calls you Jemmy all the time. He must've been really disappointed when you didn't recognize his voice._

James kept those thoughts in his head until he arrived at the airport. He parked not far away from the airport and walked out of his car, almost running to the airport. He stopped, panting from all the running he has done, and looked around to find the familiar, tall male. Not in sight.

James gently pushed through some people, still trying to find Thomas. He wanted to yell out his name, but he didn't want to risk embarrassing himself. Wait, _embarrass himself_. At this point, he already forgot about who called him, he panicked literally over nothing, and he already made a huge mess out of himself in public. Might as well just call out for Thomas.

James took a deep breath before yelling, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn't say a single word. Not even a noise escaped his mouth. What was preventing him from speaking was the hand on his shoulder. _What are you doing, James!?_ James thought to himself as he began turning around to see who made physical contact with him.

He didn't see much, being honest, but he did see a magenta fabric and caramel skin. Those colors looked awfully familiar. James didn't even have enough time to look up at the person's facial features, but he was pulled into a strong embrace.

 _Cinnamon_. A familiar smell from the past. Something he has definitely smelt before. _Strong arms_. The feeling of reassuring arms around James's small, frail body.

"Hey, Jemmy," the person said, with a Southern accent. The accent that James knew well. The person finally pulled away from the hug, and James was able to see their face. Nice, dark, fluffy hair, chocolate brown eyes, arrogant smile. Those features that James knew too well.

"Hey, Thomas," James said, smiling, probably like a dork, "I missed you."

He heard Thomas's harmonious chuckle and he felt a hand ruffling his short hair. "Missed you, too," he said, as he began following James to his car. He was pulling his single, magenta suitcase, which was covered in small pictures of Thomas and James smiling at the camera.

"So, did anything interesting happened in Paris?"

Thomas groaned, remembering one of the days in Paris.

 _"Ugh, it's Jeffershit," Alexander said, rolling his eyes._

 _"What do you want, Hamilton?" Thomas asked. He wasn't in the mood at all that day._

 _"Where's your little Jemmy?" the shorter man asked, a smirk on his face._

 _Thomas scoffed at the arrogant, short man before walking up to him face-to-face. "It's James, dumbass," he hissed, glaring daggers at Alexander, "And he's back in America. What are you doing here, and where's Jackie?"_

 _This already triggered the other man, as he grabbed the taller man's collar and pulled him down. "You better shut your mouth," he said, glaring back at the now smirking Thomas, "John is also at home. Not that you care, anyways." He pushed Thomas back before arrogantly walking the other direction. The Virginian watched as Alexander walked away, still annoyed by the encounter._

"Well, thank goodness, I wasn't there," James said jokingly, turning on the car engine, "Must've been a terrible day for you."

The taller male chuckled and crossed his legs. "Hey, it wasn't my fault Hamilton decided to walk up to me for no damn reason," he said, a small smirk on his face.

James hummed and began driving them home. "Are you sick?" Thomas asked, remembering the phone call from before.

The shorter man shook his head, smiling. "Just choked on something," he replied before paying attention to the road.

The ride was silent, and not the comfortable, silent. James wished. No, this was the awkward, silent.

"So..." the shorter man said, still keeping his eyes on the road, "Are you hungry?" He assumed that Thomas was hungry, since he probably didn't eat lunch in the airplane. It was a little early to eat, so now might've been a good time to ask.

Thomas shrugged and looked out the window. "We could drive home," he said, "Then I could probably make some mac cheese. I've been craving for some forever."

 _Really?_ James thought. He decided to groan in a playful way. "But you _always_ had mac cheese," the shorter man complained.

"Come on! It's homemade!" Thomas argued, knowing that James was joking, "And I _know_ how much you love my homemade mac cheese."

That wasn't a lie. James _loved_ Thomas's homemade mac cheese, and in fact, he loved _everything_ that the taller man made. Maybe it was the effects of being in love with him.

"Fine, but if it turns out to be terrible, I'm gonna sue you," James joked, smiling.

Thomas chuckled and petted the shorter man's hair. "I promise!" he chirped, smiling like a dork, "This will be the _best_ mac cheese you'll ever have in your life!"

 _Of course, it'll be the best mac cheese in my life_ , the shorter man thought, _Everything you make is the best thing in the world._

They finally arrived at James's apartment, and the shorter man helps Thomas bring his stuff in. Thomas brought his suitcase in while James held the rest of Thomas's things, which wasn't much. He held a magenta blanket, a plushy of James (which he thanked Hercules for making), and a water bottle.

The taller Virginian ran upstairs to his bedroom, placing his magenta suitcase on his bed. He smiled at the pictures he took of him and James, sighing. _Okay, this is the day,_ Thomas thought, _This is the day you confess to Jemmy. It's okay if he doesn't like you the same way. Being rejected by Jemmy is the same feeling as being rejected, dumped, or cheated on by your exes. You'll be fine_.

Thomas was telling lies to himself. He loves James differently than his previous girlfriends. Yeah, he cared for them, but there was something different about James. He made the taller man want to cuddle him, pepper him with kisses, hug him, watch over him, the list could go on. Thomas felt emotionally attached to James, and he needed to tell him. Maybe a quick shower and a change of clothes will make him more relaxed.

James, on the other hand, is having a small panic attack. _What does he think about me now?_ he thought, nessing with the sleeves of his turtle neck, _Why am I getting so nervous? It's Thomas. He'll never love a weirdo like me_. James have been putting himself down because he says he's not enough.

He suddenly heard loud footsteps coming down the stairs, and he knew who it was. Other than the fact that they were the only two in the house, James knew those steps were coming from someone who was arrogant and outgoing. He saw the figure appearing at the bottom of the stairs with a loose tank top and boxers. James tries to ignore Thomas so that his face doesn't turn red. He failed.

"Jemmy!" Thomas exclaimed, hugging the shorter man, who was oblivious to the shorter Virginian blushing madly from staring at his biceps, "Are you ready to have the best lunch in your life?" _And possibly the last one_.

James laughed and patted Thomas's back. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied, still blushing.

The taller man pulled away, still smiling before walking into the kitchen. _Making homemade mac cheese?_ Thomas asked himself, _Easy as pie. Confessing to James? Complicated as hell._

"Hey, Jemmy?" Thomas called out from the kitchen.

James looked up from the story he was reading on his phone. "Yes, Thomas?" he asked, a bit curious what the taller man has to say.

 _Okay, you know what to say, so just say it now,_ Thomas thought, _It's not that hard._ "So, what I'm about to say might make you lose your apetite," he said, biting his lip.

James laughed and smiled, looking down at his book. "Thomas, I know your mac cheese will be fine," the shorter man said, flipping a page. The taller man sure has some ways to make James laugh, and he couldn't help it.

"No, _James_ , I'm being serious," Thomas said, his tone shaky but not jokingly. This made James gulp. _Oh, he's going to say that he hates me,_ James thought, closing his book shut, _He's going to leave me in this apartment. He's going to make fun of me for having small panic attacks. He's going to ignore me._ James knew the taller man used James's real name when he's being serious. But why is he like this?

Nonetheless, James replied, "Just tell me. I won't judge," although he knows it's not him who's gonna be judging. _It's Thomas._

"Well, first of all, you're an awesome friend," Thomas said, feeling his face suddenly heat up. Those were one of the cheesiest pick-up lines _ever_. He saw James walking to the counter in the walls between the kitchen and dining room. He was fidgeting with his own sleeves, but he looked cute. Thomas didn't know why the shorter man was nervous, but he continued anyway.

"Well, you're more than a good friend. And no, not even to best friends, either. Or something like BFFs, or whatever. What I am saying is, you're cute, adorable, and other adjectives I can't find to describe you because you're _that_ awesome." James felt his face heat up to a crimson red. He opened his mouth to speak, but Thomas continued. This is where the confession starts.

"You're adorable to the point where I wanna keep cuddling you in my sleep. You're cute to the point where I wanna cover you up in kisses. You're beautiful to the point where I will need to remind you that you're beautiful every hour of the day. The reason why I came back from France was because of _you_. You mean so much to me, James. I know you'll say no, but I will say it, anyways. James Madison, I love you. And I _really_ want to go out with you, but I understand if you don't wanna."

James blinked. _He said... I love you_ , he thought. He was looking for any signs that the taller man was joking. _"Just kidding, Jemmy! It was all a joke!"_ Nothing. Thomas's eye flickered from James to the floor. _No, you're making him nervous!_ he thought, _Say something!_

"I-I like you, t-too," the shorter man stuttered quietly. Looks like Thomas didn't hear him, considering that he leaned over the counter a bit _too_ close to James's face. They were a few centimeters apart, which made the shorter man's breath hitched.

"What did you say?" the taller man asked, his breath against the shorter man's face, making him shiver.

"I liked- no, love you," James corrected. His face was extremely red to the point where you could see the color on his dark skin. He hope this was all a joke, but he also hoped that this was real. He expected Thomas to just pull away and make fun of him, he really did. There was _no_ way a tall, beautiful man like Thomas could fall in love with a small, sick weirdo like him. _Never_.

James was about to take his words back, when he felt the space between him and the taller man close. Thomas closed his eyes as his lips made contact with James's. His lips were soft, _really_ soft. The shorter man didn't kiss back, because he was so shocked at the tall Virginian's actions. He thought wrong about Thomas. He _does_ love him.

James began kissing the taller man back, although he was a bit shy. Thomas smiled and pulled away, looking deeply into the shorter man's eyes. They were wide open in shock, and he saw his pupils dilate.

"I can't believe you love me," Thomas said, smiling like a dork, "I can't believe you kissed me back!"

James laughed and pecked the taller man's cheek, his cheeks still red. "Of course, I do," he said, "I can't believe you fell in love with someone like... me."

"Well, I wouldn't regret kissing you again, that's for sure," Thomas said, smirking. James smiled and leaned in again to kiss the taller man again.

Thomas chuckled, closing his eyes to kiss the shorter man he loved again. He wasn't even hungry anymore. He had James. And James had Thomas.


	2. Hamlaf: I'm Jealous, but I Love You

**Ship** : Hamlaf

Paris, the well-known city of love. It was the romantic and flirty city. Alexander loved this city as much as he loved Lafayette, and trust me, he loved him a lot. _A lot_.

The Carribean man knew the Frenchman since college, and as soon as he met him, he fell in love. Chocolate-brown eyes, dark, curly hair, a bright smile, a feminine yet strong build on his body, there was so much he could list about him. He's been really confident in telling everybody how he felt, but Lafayette was a _whole_ different story. The feeling of rejection was the worst thing Alexander wanted to face, so he ignored confessing to the Frenchman.

"Mon ami, look!" Lafayette exclaimed, pulling Alexander's arm to a café. It was a bit _too_ fancy for the place to be a community café, but who'd he be to complain?

Alexander looked at Lafayette's beaming, chocolate brown eyes, chuckling to himself. "You want to go there?" he asked, lifting one eyebrow up.

The Frenchman nodded eagerly. He wasn't afraid of how many people were staring at the two men, whose arms are linked together. "Yes, please!" he replied, still smiling brightly, "I promise I'll pay!"

Alexander shook his head. "We'll go," he said, patting Lafayette's head, "But I'll pay instead." He finally had at least enough money to buy something for the Frenchman. Unfortunately, he was being reluctant to the idea and shook his head.

"Non, I got it!" Lafayette argued, "You have to take care of yourself."

"Technically, I have no life, so I'm caring for the next person I lo- _care about_." That was extremely close. Alexander hoped the Frenchman didn't catch on to the interruption in the middle of his sentence.

Lafayette only nodded, smiling. "Alright, Alex," he said, pulling the Carribean man towards his childhood café. He didn't want to argue any further, since he knew Alexander was going to win, anyway.

The Frenchman continued dragging the Carribean man into the café. As soon as they stepped in, the scents hit the both of them, and Lafayette's brain is immediately filled with memories. The café made Lafayette feel nostalgic and old, which made the Frenchman smile even more. He wanted to prove Alexander that this was an amazing place. "So, how is it?" Lafayette asked, looking over to see a speechless Alexander.

"I..." the Carribean man said, blinking in utter shock and excitement, " _You lived with this_!?"

Lafayette chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, this is a public café for anyone," he replied, patting Alexander's back. The lights were too dim to see the red crawl up Alexander's face when he made contact with the Frenchman. The decorations seemed festive, but they do match the environment of the café. The furniture had some kind of cabin-feel to it, which was where the environment got its cozy and relaxing atmosphere. All and all, this place seemed safe and comforting.

Alexander began to look around the place a little more before Lafayette dragged him to the counter, where an energetic, young lady, probably around their age, was standing in the back of the counter, smiling at Lafayette. Alexander takes note of what's happening while examining the ceiling, which was covered in some nice, dim, lights.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Lafayette!" she exclaimed, already getting ready to take their orders, "Je suis Sabine!"

The Frenchman takes Sabine's hand, pressing a small kiss on her knuckles, which made her giggle. "Bonjour, Madame Sabine," he said, bowing, "Je suppose que vous me connaissez déjà, mais rencontrez Alexander."

Sabine looked over at Alexander, who accidentally glared at her. But assuming that she glared back at him, it looks like they loved the same person. It was just a weird feeling that two rivals usually have. The interactions and the reactions were all obvious they both had the same feelings towards the Frenchman. "Ravi de vous rencontrer, Alexander," she said, sending a forced smile to the Carribean man, "Ah, sorry. I forgot you know no French. It is nice to meet you, Alexander!"

That statement made the Carribean man groan. Of course, if he's not from France, he _doesn't_ know French. Lafayette was about to object to Sabine's statement when Alexander spoke up. " _Just take our orders like you're supposed to do_ ," he hissed, instinctively holding Lafayette's hand. He didn't notice the faint color of red on the Frenchman's cheek. That made Sabine glare at the shorter of the two.

"Ah, yes. What would you like to order?" Sabine asked, already annoyed of the Carribean man's tone.

"The Noisette, please," Lafayette replied, "You?"

Alexander scanned through the menu. Some of the foods on the menu were ones that Alexander have never tried before. Others he had tried. "The Double Espresso Serré," he replied, knowing that the drink would keep him up for as long as needed.

Sabine nodded, placing the two orders in. "I will pay this for you!" she exclaimed, pulling out a receipt and handing it to Lafayette, "This is, how Americans say, _my treat_."

"Merci, Madame Sabine," the Frenchman said, smiling while taking the receipt, "How thoughtful, right, mon ami?"

Alexander didn't realize Lafayette was talking to him. He was too busy giving the flirtatious waitress death glares. He really hates that woman. He knew she was flirting with him, but it was probably for the best. Lafayette was too perfect to be with some bastard like Alexander, himself. He wasn't even close to the Frenchman's tastes. He didn't even know if Lafayette even _likes_ the same gender at all. Alexander's friends all know that he likes either gender, but Lafayette? No clue at all. Still, she had no right to openly flirt with his friend/crush.

" _Alex_!" Lafayette yelled, which finally got the Carribean man's attention. He blinked once, looking at the pissed-off Frenchman.

"Y-yeah..." Alexander said, glancing away in embarrassment and anger. He felt like he heard Sabine giggle and saw her smirk. _That woman_ , Alexander thought, _Who does she think she is, laughing at me_?

Sabine pointed to the bar next to her. "You could sit over there, Monsieur Lafayette," she said, with a small smile. Oh, she was _totally_ flirting with Lafayette, but for the sake of Lafayette's reputation, Alexander stayed quiet, although it was _extremely_ difficult to do.

The Frenchman, on the other hand, was oblivious to Alexander's protection or Sabine's attempts to flirt with him. He was a bit tired, so maybe some coffee would wake him up. Alexander probably needed some coffee, too, but it was kind enough that the waitress paid for the drinks.

Lafayette walked with Alexander to the bar, sitting down on some comfortable stools. He hummed and held his head up with his hands, stealing glances of Alexander, who was merely scrolling through his phone. He couldn't stop staring at him. His sleek, black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, the faint eyebags under his dark, brown eyes, the fact that his smile was rare yet beautiful.

The Frenchman paid attention to Alexander's facial expression, noticing the slight annoyance just from his eyes. "Alex, mon ami," he said, which caught the shorter man's attention. He looked deeply into his eyes before speaking, noticing anger in his eyes.

"Are you okay, mon ami? You seem distressed."

Alexander nodded, brushing away his jealousy. "I'm always okay," Alexander said, still scrolling through his phone.

Lafayette knew that was a lie. It was so obvious that it was a lie. Alexander is not _always_ okay. In fact, those are the words that he uses when he's _not_ okay. Something's wrong. "Alexander, mon ami, please tell me," the Frenchman said, a bit hurt that Alexander didn't immediately say what was wrong.

The Carribean man felt guilty about hearing the Frenchman's hurt tone, but he didn't want to carry any emotional baggage on other. "I'm fine, really, I am," Alexander said, fiddling with his fingers, "It's just a long day, nothing else."

The Frenchman was not convinced. He rose an eyebrow at Alexander. He opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by a plate being gently placed on the table. "One Noisette, and one Double Espresso Serré," Sabine said as she handed out each drink to the two men, then suddenly smiling, "Ooh, I am on break right now. Can I sit with you two?"

Alexander glared at Sabine. Oh, there was _no_ way she's going to sit right next to Lafayette. "Hell no-"

"Oui, of course!" Lafayette interrupted, patting a seat next to him. The shorter of the two glared at Sabine while she smirks and sits next to the Frenchman.

"So, how is America?" Sabine asked, placing her hand on Lafayette's. The Frenchman doesn't notice the low growl of jealousy and anger from Alexander.

With a nod, Lafayette smiled and gave two thumbs up. "Pretty good, actually," he replied, sipping his coffee, "It's been pretty easy for me. I have many friends who actually care about me back in America."

Sabine nodded, paying attention to everything the taller man was saying, which only made Alexander growl at her even more. She smirked back at the shorter man and turned back to Lafayette, nodding at every word he's saying. The Carribean man scoffed at the waitress's attempt to flirt with Lafayette. _His_ Lafayette. Well, not really. Yeah, they couldn't be together at all, considering their differences, but it was pretty messed up to flirt your friend/crush right in front of you.

"So, Monsieur Alexander, is that right?" Sabine asked. The mention of Lafayette's crush almost made him choke on his drink.

"Y-yes, what about him?" the Frenchman asked, looking up at the waitress. He felt his face beginning to heat up, his cheeks probably a bright red by now. What was she going to say about him? _Please_ don't fall in love with him.

Sabine positioned herself towards Lafayette, propping her head up before speaking to him. "Do you... _like_ him?" she asked, already noticing Alexander paying attention to the conversation.

"O-of course, I do!" Lafayette exclaimed, gripping onto his cup, "A-as a friend!"

Those words got Alexander's attention quickly. His heart broke into a million pieces, but he wasn't surprised. _Of course, he likes you as a friend_ , he thought, squeezing his ceramic mug until his knuckles turned white. _You're just a bastard orphan. He's a beautiful man who could find anybody better than you_. He sighed sadly and looked over at Sabine, who had a smirk of satisfaction.

"Then you won't mind if I did this," she said, leaning in to kiss Lafayette's lips. The Frenchman just stood there, wide-eyed. _No, his first kiss_ _... was with THIS woman!?_ Lafayette wanted it to be something HE wanted, not from the surprise. He wanted the kiss to be from... _Alexander_. He immediately pushed Sabine away, feeling tears forming in his eyes.

"Pourquoi diable feriez-vous ça!?" Lafayette cried, wiping his lips, "Non... _non_! Je dois y aller..." He ran out of the café, wiping away his tears. Alexander shouldn't see him like this, _no one_ should see him as a crying mess. Alexander saw that he _totally_ kissed Sabine. He has the wrong idea stuck in his head, now, and he'll hate him forever. Lafayette sat on the curb and cried to himself

Alexander, on the other hand, stared at the stunned Sabine with hatred. "Are you fucking serious right now!?" he yelled, his voice cracking with anger and sadness.

"Que veux-tu dire, si je suis sérieux en ce moment?" Sabine asked, crossing her arms at the shorter man, "Bien sûr, Lafayette m'aime plus qu'un idiot comme toi." She never realized that Alexander spoke French until now.

"Putain de salope. J'espère que vous réalisez que vous avez plus que jamais agacé. _J'espère que tu brûles en enfer_." Alexander sent Sabine a death glare before walking out of the café, trying to look for Lafayette. Hopefully, he didn't run as far as he thought. Just remembering the hurt look in Lafayette's eyes broke Alexander's heart, but why was he hurt? At least he wasn't kissed by some monster like Alexander. _Get that thought out of your head_ , the Carribean man thought, shaking his head, _You need to find Lafayette. He's hurt more than you will ever be._

" _LAF_!" Alexander yelled, getting most of the pedestrians' attention. He didn't care at all. He needed to find Lafayette.

There was sobbing from behind him. Alexander turned around to see the same Frenchman he loved crying on the sidewalk. He hugged his legs close to his chest and his hair was a mess. This was the first time Alexander has _ever_ seen Lafayette cry, which hurt him a lot. The way he looked so vulnerable and helpless in the corner just made him want to protect the Frenchman forever.

Alexander squatted down next to Lafayette, placing an arm around him. "Laf..." he murmured, caressing circles in the Frenchman's back, "Are you okay?"

"Hey... Alex," Lafayette muttered, burying his head in the crook of Alexander's neck, "I'm so sorry you had to see that mon amo- _ami_..."

Although the Frenchman's breath against Alexander's skin gave him chills, the Carribean man caught the last part of Lafayette's sentence. " _Mon amour_?" Alexander asked, with a smirk.

He felt Lafayette's breath hitched and hesitantly shook his head. "N-non, oui? Maybe..." the taller man replied, "Ugh, you're no help, mon ami... but listen, I don't like that woman. _At all_. Please believe me. Don't hate me."

Why would Lafayette think like that at all? The more vulnerable the Frenchman sounded, the more hurt the Carribean man felt. It hurt him so much to hear those kinds of words coming out of his mouth. Alexander held the Frenchman's head up, hesitantly moving his face closer to his own. He wiped away a few tears from Lafayette, which made him giggle. "I know you don't," Alexander said, "And I won't hate you. I will never, and you know why?"

He looked deeply into Lafayette's glossy, chocolate brown eyes, the same eyes that he fell in love with. The Frenchman shook his head in confusion, his eyes saying 'Why?'. Alexander smiled and closed the space in between each other, locking lips with the other. "Because I love you," he replied, surprised that Lafayette kissed back immediately.

Alexander has been waiting for this moment a _long_ time. Lafayette's lips felt so soft against his, and he tasted of the Noisette he had before. The kiss was sweet and enjoyable as if they were the only two left in the world. If only this moment lasted longer than Alexander wanted it to last. He pulled away from the kiss and just stared into Lafayette's chocolate eyes.

"You... love me back?" Alexander asked, smiling.

Lafayette chuckled, nodding with the biggest smile Alexander has ever seen in his life. "Of course, mon amour!" he replied, "I loved you _so_ much! Je t'ai aimé toute ma vie!"

Alexander laughed, wrapping his arms around Lafayette, probably a bright red. "Je t'aime aussi. Je t'aime tellement."

The Frenchman pulled away and suddenly smirked. Oh dear. He only does that when he's thinking of something mischievous. "So, about earlier when we were ordering," he began to say, satisfied when Alexander's face turned red.

"I-it wasn't my fault that I was jealous, okay!?" the Carribean man yelled, burying his head in the Frenchman's chest, receiving a lovable chuckle, "S-she was being touchy and flirty!"

Lafayette laughed and began stroking Alexander's smooth, sleek, black hair. "I know, mon amour," he hummed, pressing a kiss against the other's head, "But you don't have to be jealous anymore. _Je t'aime et seulement toi_."

 **A/N** : I'm so sorry if I butchered this story/ship. Thanks for reading!


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